My last post shared some honest thoughts from Dave Rudden about boys and how they are taught by expectation and example not to feel. I hope that if you’re reading this blog post, you’ve given his excellent essay a read first. I have never been a boy, so my experience with this subject is certainly different, but I hope that my voice can join the discussion in a productive way. It’s an issue that we should all be talking about. Read the rest of this entry
The first time I saw him, I wondered if we had met before. I thought the feeling would be easy to shake off, because I knew that I’d never seen this fellow before. Instead, I felt that hesitant sense of discovery, the back-and-forth dance that some of us do when we think we recognize someone a small distance off, but we’re not quite sure. Read the rest of this entry
One of the hardest things for any person to do is to explain how their mind works. For some, the difficulty is that they simply don’t know. This has its pros and cons. For others, they know exactly and could not, for the life of them, describe it in a coherent way. This too, has its pros and cons. As someone in the latter camp, I can tell you it’s a lot like walking in a garden. You know it’s your garden. You know you planted some things. You even laid some of the footpath yourself. But what comes up, what crawls up over the garden wall, what spreads faster than you can cut it back, what ugly thing finally blooms into loveliness—that you never know. Read the rest of this entry
Last night, I survived and enjoyed the very first public reading of my work! Thanks to all who came to hear the three writers last night–we appreciated all the support. To promote our stories, we each made up an illustration for a bookmark. Read the rest of this entry
When I was writing Still Dreaming, I stumbled upon a poem of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s that fascinated me. It’s such a whimsical thought that he captures in a few lines, but even more than that, it caught my attention because I was imagining a similar world where such a thing might be possible. That’s one of the reasons I love writing fantasy so much–a fantasy writer can try to answer the question at the end of this poem.
For your reading pleasure, an excerpt from chapter one of my novel Still Dreaming: